


icees and ac/dc

by stellarmads



Series: reddie moments [5]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AU, ICEE incidents, M/M, Sci-Fi Elements, but so is eddie, genderfluid!eddie, no IT, rated teen and up for some sexual elements, richie is way smoother in this fic, they're 18 here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmads/pseuds/stellarmads
Summary: Eddie gets mini-visions of the future sometimes.  He gets a vision of Richie and throws an ICEE on him.





	icees and ac/dc

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nicehcuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicehcuse/gifts).



> this was a fun little thing to write. thanks to ari for the sci-fi headcanon, i really needed something to combine with genderfluid eddie and this was perfect. god i miss ICEES btw, i always got blue raspberry. what are you're guys' favorite flavors?

Eddie’s not sure when it all started. They just started getting these annoying flashes, just small scenes. It almost felt like deja vu, but then they get a flash of Cindy Birmingham kissing them right before she drunkenly flings herself at them during their seventeenth birthday. 

After that, they had tried their best to ignore them. On occasion, it saved them from awkward encounters, such as when they almost ran into their ex and a member of the football team having some one-on-one locker room action, but for the most part it just temporarily blinded and annoyed them. Was it weird? Hell yes. They felt like a part of some really lame Marvel comic, except this time there was no Professor X and certainly no Wolverine. (Although a person could dream.)

\----

It’s summertime, which means Eddie turns to dresses and opts for the lightest makeup possible. It means pastel colors, soft cotton, and their pixie cut turning a softer brown, light blonde highlights. 

Summer meant everything to Eddie. 

It also meant walks down to the local convenience store and ignoring all the cat calls and glares from men working on the street. Which is what they’re doing now, cherry coke ICEE in one hand, headed back home. They pause at an intersection, the sounds of cars, chatter, and the spokes of a bicycle helping them tune out the whispers that seem to follow them wherever they goes nowadays. 

The bicycle pulls up beside them, a slight skid of tires as the brakes are jammed backwards, and the images are pulled in front of their eyes. 

A tall figure, a bike skidding out of control, a busy intersection. 

They gasp, ripping themselves free from the images, and turning to the owner of the bike. It’s a tall guy, curly hair pulled back into a tiny bun, and wearing all black in the middle of a ninety degree Derry summer. Eddie recognizes him as another senior at Derry High, Richie Tozier. 

Richie has his foot on a pedal, ready to take off in the short clearing of cars, and Eddie feels a little like they did when they joined drama club and forgot one of their lines opening night. They do the only thing they can think of. 

They throw the cherry coke ICEE on him. 

Richie topples off the bike, sputtering, ICEE dripping from his thick frames, coating his hair, and running down his AC/DC shirt. 

“What the FUCK?” He shrieks, shaking the excess off onto the ground and flapping his hands free of the sticky substance. “What the HEL-” 

He cuts off, blinking behind the smeared lenses as he takes in Eddie, who is standing there, empty offending cup still in their hand, mouth open and gaping like a fish. 

“I-I. Um. Uhhh…” Eddie stammers, trying to get their mouth to work. They blink. “I tripped.” 

Richie stares him. “Tripped.” 

Eddie nods.

“And spilled your entire fucking drink on me.” 

Eddie nods again, meekly. 

“This,” Richie points down at his now sticky, sopping wet shirt “was a new shirt.” 

“I’ll pay for it.” Eddie quickly offers, then cringes. Stupid, they don’t have a job. 

Richie just seems to take them in, a slow glide of his gaze from Eddie’s pink Converse, past his flowered baby blue dress, to their flushed face. “Let me take you out and we’re even.” 

The look in his eye is wicked and Eddie’s dying blush heats up to dangerous levels again. 

\----

Being taken out means the bowling alley, a shared basket of fries, and loud rock music. Richie had picked them up in a roaring, rusty truck, and Eddie had decided right then and there this was going to be one of the worst nights of their life. 

There was no evidence he had been assaulted with a frozen drink earlier that afternoon, his shirt being replaced with yet another band tee, his hair dry and curls let loose, spilling down his neck and into his eyes. Eddie fought the urge to brush them back yet again as Richie leaned forward, snagging another fry. 

“So. Eds.” Eddie bites back a comment at the nickname. “What music are you into?” 

Eddie shrugs. “I mostly listen to what my mom listens to. Elvis, Buddy Holly. Some stuff my friends listen to, mostly the Beatles.”

Richie looks like he’s being told Eddie murders puppies on the weekend. “Babe,” He shakes his head, not seeming to notice how Eddie’s cheeks heat up at the term, “you are gorgeous, but _fuck_ have you got the worst music taste.” 

Eddie huffs. “And I suppose yours is so much more superior?” They eye the obscure band Richie’s shirt advertises now. 

Richie shrugs, innocently popping a fry into his mouth. “I mean, it’s better than most in this town.” 

Eddie rolls their eyes. 

“If you really don’t believe me I can make you a mixtape.” Richie offers. 

Eddie doesn’t want anything Richie Tozier has to offer, they tell themselves. They don’t want his black curls that are reflecting neon red in the lights, they don’t want his entitled smile, and they certainly don’t want his mixtapes. 

They open their mouth to politely decline, and what comes out is; “Yeah sure.” 

Richie looks pleased, leans back, observing the bowling alley, frowning at a few guys in the back Eddie can’t see, but can hear. Eddie shifts, shorts pulling up against the plastic material of the seats. 

“You haven’t asked about…” Eddie trails off, Richie’s eyes back on them. “This.” They finish, gesturing to their full face of makeup, red lips and pink eyeshadow. 

Richie blinks. “Did you want me to? Sorry babe, you look really pretty tonight, figured you knew that.” 

Eddie stutters a little at the pet name. “That’s..that’s not what I meant. Most people think it’s..weird. Gross.” They fiddle with the hem of their shirt. 

Richie snorts. “People are fucking stupid Eds. If I cared what they thought I wouldn’t even still be in this town. I’ve heard what they say. It’s stupid.” He says it like it’s end of the discussion, like he isn’t the first person to validate Eddie, no questions asked. 

“And..what I ask people to call me?” They ask nervously. 

Richie runs his hands through his curls. It’s as unsanitary as it is gorgeous, and Eddie finds himself caught up in the movement. “What, the whole they, them thing?” Eddie nods nervously. 

Richie grins, leans forward again, into Eddie’s space. They fight the urge to lean back, the smell of cigarettes and Richie’s soap mixing together and making them a little dizzy. “The only thing I thought when I learned about you was how fucking cute you were. Seriously Eds. You’re a catch.” 

He leans back and Eddie lets out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding. “And when was this?” They ask faintly. 

Richie sips his water, the first time he’s touched it, and Eddie takes note of how his knuckles turn white from how hard he grips the glass. He raises his chin a little. “Three years ago.” 

Sophomore year. Richie Tozier has been crushing on Eddie since sophomore year, and Eddie had barely acknowledged his existence. They think they’re supposed to be put off by that, but instead they feel a small flutter in their stomach. They looks back into his dark eyes, sees a flash of hot kisses, smeared lipstick, and rucked up shirts, and the flutters give way to heat. 

They brush their foot up the side of Richie’s leg and smile flirtatiously. “Three years is a long time to keep a girl waiting.” 

Richie look’s like he’s about to pass out when Eddie slides out of the booth and heads towards his truck.


End file.
